Clint Barmes is Killing Me

I really need to get a life, or at very least a full-time job. But until that day comes, and I no longer have too much time on my hands, I will continue to obsess about stupid stuff like my fantasy baseball team.

Last week I pulled off a big trade, shipping a quality starting pitcher, Brandon Webb, for a hot-shot rookie shortstop named Clint Barmes of the Colorado Rockies. Barmes was going to provide the spark, and the power, and the batting average to help lead the Ombudsmen to the Last Minute League title this year.

Then the dummy went and broke his collarbone today, sending him to the DL for about three months. Bummer, you say? Sure is, especially considering that Barmes broke his collarbone not on the field, not in the heat of a game, but while shopping for groceries in Denver. Stupid guy trips while carrying his bags up the stairs at his apartment and my middle infield goes kaput. Crud.


Clint Barmes before he broke his collarbone and ruined my chances at glory